The Harp of Renfrewshire: A Collection of Songs and Other Poetical Pieces (many of which are Original) Accompanied with Notes, Explanatory, Critical, and Biographical, and a Short Essay on the Poets of RenfrewshireWilliam Motherwell |
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Page 3
... heard , nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried , Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot , O'er the grave where our hero was buried . * We have not been able to obtain any information who it was that wrote this ...
... heard , nor a funeral note , As his corse to the rampart we hurried , Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot , O'er the grave where our hero was buried . * We have not been able to obtain any information who it was that wrote this ...
Page 5
... heard by the distant and random gun , That the foe was suddenly firing . out a struggle , he breathed his last , having been previously assured of the defeat of the French , and expressing his great happiness at the advantage which his ...
... heard by the distant and random gun , That the foe was suddenly firing . out a struggle , he breathed his last , having been previously assured of the defeat of the French , and expressing his great happiness at the advantage which his ...
Page 25
... long does she tarry . " Fond mother , forbear , thou'rt not heard by thy Mary , For sound is her sleep on the dark weedy pillow- Her bed the cold sand , and her sheet the rude billow . N XIX . SONG OF A HINDUSTANNI GIRL . * ' 25.
... long does she tarry . " Fond mother , forbear , thou'rt not heard by thy Mary , For sound is her sleep on the dark weedy pillow- Her bed the cold sand , and her sheet the rude billow . N XIX . SONG OF A HINDUSTANNI GIRL . * ' 25.
Page 29
... the days of youthful prime A mistress I must find , For love , I heard , gave one an air , And even improv'd the mind . On Phillis fair , above the rest , Kind fortune fix'd my eyes , Her piercing beauty struck my heart , And she became 29.
... the days of youthful prime A mistress I must find , For love , I heard , gave one an air , And even improv'd the mind . On Phillis fair , above the rest , Kind fortune fix'd my eyes , Her piercing beauty struck my heart , And she became 29.
Page 30
... came - my friend I try'd ; He heard , and spurn'd my moan ; I hied me home , and tun'd my pipe To John o ' Badenyon . Methought I should be wiser next , And would a patriot turn , Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes , And cry up 30.
... came - my friend I try'd ; He heard , and spurn'd my moan ; I hied me home , and tun'd my pipe To John o ' Badenyon . Methought I should be wiser next , And would a patriot turn , Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes , And cry up 30.
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The Harp of Renfrewshire: A Collection of Songs and Other Poetical Pieces ... William Motherwell No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Arthurlie Bard beauty blaw bloom blythe bonny lassie bonny Peggy bosom bower braes brave breast breath bright Caledonia street cauld charms cheek dear death delight e'en e'er Ellen fair father flower frae Francis Sempill gane genius Glasgow glow Greenock gude hame happy heart heaven ilka James Jean Adam John John Sim Kilbarchan lady lass lo'e Lochwinnoch lov'd lover maid Mary maun morning mourn nae mair native ne'er never night o'er Paisley peace pleasure poem poet poetical poor quhat R. A. Smith Renfrewshire Robert Sempill Robert Tannahill rose round Scotish Scotland Sempill sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul street sung sweet sweetly Tannahill tear thee There's thine thou tree Twas wander warl wave weary weel weep wild Willy winds wyllowe yon burn side youth
Popular passages
Page 283 - When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Page 336 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Page 385 - Row, brothers, row ! the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!
Page 417 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,— In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs,— All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy love.
Page 269 - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done, While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying; Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye, Here no bugles sound reveille.
Page 415 - The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love.
Page 283 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Page 416 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten...
Page 4 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 273 - THE YOUNG MAY MOON. THE young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love, How sweet to rove Through Morna's grove,* When the drowsy world is dreaming, love ! Then awake ! — the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.